Mirror
by windofdreams
Summary: Your reflection is the image of perfection and you love it. Except, it's not your reflection. It's your younger sister, and you want her. Or is it the other way around? Bellatrix/Andromeda. Blackcest.


**Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, R13, Real Randomness. I'm Chaser 2 for the BallyBats.**

 **Task: S2R13 / Spreading the Love - Choose one of the pairings from the round: Andromeda/Bellatrix.**

 **Optional prompts:**

 **-prod**

 **-passion**

 **-you may only write about (or mention) female characters.**

 **Hogwarts Houses Challenges: New QP - "Peace begins with a smile." - Mother Teresa / DC - Three, two, one; time was up.**

 **Word count: 1136**

 **Warning for femslash/incest.**

 **Enjoy :)**

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 _Bellatrix carefully pushed the door of the nursery open and glancing over her shoulder to make sure her mother was not in sight, she entered the dimmed room, heading towards the little cot by the fireplace. Once there, she climbed the chair beside it to peek at the baby. Her mum said it was her little sister, but she had usually turned her nose up at it until now. This time, she would finally be alone with the newcomer, without her mum preventing her from it, and she felt rather thrilled. Bellatrix didn't understand why she couldn't get close to_ Nad'o—Damod—An'eda _—well, whatever her name was, Mother and Aunt Walburga had been over-coddling her, and Bellatrix was determined to finally discover why she was so special; she had been ignoring her sister for too long._

 _She cautiously rose to her feet and poked over the edge of the cot. A soft snoring reached her;_ Madomeda _was sleeping._

 _Bellatrix prodded her in her tiny stomach to wake her up, and when the seven-month-old opened her huge, velvet eyes, the older girl felt her black own filling with dark desire. She suddenly was... hungry. She leaned over trying to press her lips on that small forehead but she felt someone grabbing her from behind. Seeing the baby lifting her little hand, Bellatrix helplessly reached out fighting against someone who was getting her further and further away._

 _It seemed to take ages before the hands that were holding her released their grasp, putting her down on the floor again._

" _Mother, I was just trying to see her. Can I not play with her, please?"_

" _Don't you dare touch her, Bellatrix. Don't even touch her cover or the cot itself. She's a delicate, little girl, not your next doll to decapitate however you wish. And you could have hurt yourself really badly if you'd have fallen from that chair. What was in your mind?"_

 _As Mother was dragging her out of the nursery, Bellatrix found herself whispering to no one, "She is mine."_

 _{xxxxxxxx}_

She was in front of her. All Bellatrix had to do was reach out and touch that image of perfection. She knew it would not take any effort for the other to rise her hand in the very same moment she would do so; then, their equally perfect hands would meet right in the middle, fingertip against fingertip, to create a bridge between two people who couldn't be separated from each other. One mirrored the other and that could only mean one thing: they were meant to be for—in the eyes of Bellatrix—what was the point to create perfection if it was to be contaminated by mixing with filth?

 _Toujours pur!_

Bellatrix felt obsessed; the passion for her brunette sister whose face resembled her own so much was burning her, consuming her flesh.

Her eyes followed Andromeda everywhere, yet the younger sister always managed to escape that intense, dark, lusty gaze.

Bellatrix's thoughts lingered on what she considered her _alter ego_ , her second self, yet her own hands never strained. Whenever the younger girl was around, the older one's grasp on whatever she was holding at the moment would become tighter, and her knuckles would become whiter, but the second sister would pass over undisturbed.

Andromeda was delicate and was not to be touched according to both Mother and Aunt Walburga. _Fine!_ Bellatrix would not even brush her, but many lives would be cut off because of this. Everytime she slaughtered a woman or a girl, she rejoiced, and her body would be filled with electricity for she was one step closer to the only one she really wanted.

 _{xxxxxxxx}_

It had happened what she had always feared. They had never allowed her to touch Andromeda, and now her younger sister had disappeared. They should have let Bellatrix get a grasp on her, tie her when there was still time. _Now, it is too late._

She couldn't move, she wouldn't move. It was like she had bound herself to that chair with ropes as strong as the ones that bound her soul to Andromeda's. This was not what was supposed to happen. She would protect her little sister if she had been allowed. _Now, it is too late. It is too late._

She sat alone in the darkness. Her only companion was the echo of her thoughts that were deafening her, getting louder and louder. On the window, the rain was hammering, but she couldn't hear it.

 _It is too late. She's never known.  
_

Her solitude was almost palpable. Her sadness and anger were fighting to possess her. She honestly didn't care which one would win as long as she could remember Andromeda's face and figure what it could be touching that skin that looked like silk.

After two hours of absolute stillness, Bellatrix got up and ran to her room, an idea planted in her head.

Her heart was racing, pumping more blood than she'd ever need and blowing up her vessels. Her eyes were red and her left vein in her temple pulsated. Still, her heart was pumping.

Three, two, one; time was up. She would finally have back what was rightfully hers.

She set herself between the bed and the mirror that was as high as she was.

As all sort of memories came back to her in her mind, she searched for the reflection of her eyes, but when she caught it, she realized it was not enough.

She let her gaze wander and take in her frame, hidden by that dress that would never be suited to her younger sister; it was too dark. Distorting her face in a pained grimace, she furiously—angrily—pulled off her clothes.

She looked again at her reflection in the mirror. This time, it would be easier to let herself image who stood in front of her; the dark hair, the eyes, the mouth... everything looked the same, except that finally Andromeda's eyes were finally full with passion and luxury too.

Belllatrix licked her own lips and so did her reflection that was quickly fading into Andromeda's real self in the older sister's twisted mind.

The two women locked eyes with each other, and the older one looked in awe—this was what she had always dreamed. She lifted her hand and reached out. Andromeda was doing the same. Only few inches separated their fingers now, but when they were about to touch each other, Bellatrix pulled back. She could have done it if she had wanted to, and that was enough to her.

She smiled at the mirror and when Andromeda smiled back, the older sister felt peace for she finally had her; she was hers and vice versa.

A double, winning laugh filled the room.

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The end

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 **A/N If you are confused (especially about the last part), please remember this is Bellatrix's p.o.v. so it's supposed to be madness, mental disorder, chaos, instability...**


End file.
